Obliviate Babe
by TwinHighElf222
Summary: Harry's life changes one day as he's walking alone in Hogsmeade. Now he's got another secret to had to his growing pile. Contains slash, DracoHarry, and Mpreg. Don't like, Don't read. Read and Review, Please!
1. Chapter 1: The Loss of Identity

**CHAPTER 1:**

"Harry!"

Harry looked up from where he was standing, just a few steps from the exit of The Three Broomsticks. He and his friends and decided to come to the local pub, as it was the last Hogsmeade Weekend before the Christmas holidays, and everyone wanted to do their Christmas shopping. Harry didn't particularly want to come, as he had two essays to get done by Monday, and he was recuperating from a rather nasty cold.

Ron hurried over to him, red-faced. His blue eyes were watery and dilated from the amount of butterbeer he's drank, courtesy of Seamus Finnegan, who had bought the many rounds of warm liquor.

"Where'ya goin', Harry?" the redhead slurred, swaying slightly on his feet.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached out to steady his friend, though he did little good, being several inches shorter and his body much slighter than Ron's. Ron fell sideways and knocked his head into a table, before crashing to the ground. In the back of the pub, Harry saw Seamus, Dean, Neville, and a few other members of the DA, roaring in laughter.

Scowling at them, Harry helped his friend up. "Ron, mate, maybe you should lay off the butterbeer, yeah?" He grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him over to the closest chair and pushed him into it. "'Mione is going to be so mad when she finds out you're pissed…"

"'M not pissed," Ron grumbled, before letting out a loud letch.

"Right, of course not," said Harry, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Well, stay here then. I'm going back up to the castle. I've got homework to finish and my throat is still a bit sore, so I'm going to stop by the Infirmary and get some more Pain Relieving potion from Madam Pomfrey…If I see Hermione, I'll tell her to stop by here and check up on you."

Without saying another word to the plastered redhead in front of him, Harry darted out of the pub. He gasped a bit at the winter chill, pulling his cloak tighter against him. Large snowflakes were falling from the sky, quickly covering the already snow-covered ground once more. Snow crunched under his feet as he weaved his way through the rushing crowd of the village.

The village of Hogsmeade was a very peaceful place, and one of beauty, especially in the winter holidays. Christmas decorations were spewed out all around – in the shops, on the shops, above the shops, in the middle of the alleys, and on posts and trees. Christmas lights and charmed icicles and mistletoe, all added to the beauty of the fine village. In the distance, surrounding the village was the sight of the homes of the villagers, also decorative and festive for the season.

Harry loved Hogsmeade in Christmas time. He loved Christmas, period, especially, as it brought cheer, peace and love into his heart. He hadn't always loved Christmas, not when he lived with the Dursleys. At the Dursleys, there was cheer, peace and love, but Harry felt none of it. He was never wished 'Happy Christmas' or given a present, or even a kiss and a hug. His cousin, Dudley, always got it all, all of his aunt and uncle's attention, all of their love, their cheer and their peace. Harry, he always got something – a bruise on his cheek and sometimes a bloody nose or lip.

Turning into a dark alley, Harry was startled out of his now depressing thoughts, when a large, heavy weight threw itself onto his back, knocking him and his assailant down onto the crispy cold ground.

Harry struggled to get to his feet, but the weight on top of his back prevented him from doing so.

"You're not going anyway, precious," a voice cackled in his ear. Before Harry could even begin to get scared or start to struggle to get free, the same voice growled out, "Finite! Stupefy!" and all he saw was a flash of blue and red light, then darkness.

When he awoke, it was much in the evening. He was sore and cold, was the two things he noted first upon awakening. The second was that he was lying on a dusty old bed in a dirty and dingy old shack that he recognized was not the Shrinking Shack. The third was that he was completely naked, and bleeding. The last thing he noticed was that he was not alone…

A rather handsome man, of about thirty, was standing, leaning against the doorway, wearing nothing put a moth-eaten, old black robe, tied around his waist. The man was grinning evil-like, and his brown eyes were shinning with lust and desire. His hair, a dark brown, was to his shoulders, moist from, what Harry supposed, a shower.

Harry looked down at his own body, and gave a silent shriek. His secret! His secret, which he's kept thus for over twelve years, is known…and to his rapist, his violator, no less!

At these thoughts, Harry's face lost all color and he started to shake nearly uncontrollably. He couldn't believe it…it couldn't be true, right? This wasn't really happening? He wasn't just attacked and violated, all while he was unaware…all while he couldn't fight back?

Not only was his secret ripped from him, but also his innocence, his virginity. Hot, wet tears fell down Harry's face, unable to prevent or stop them. They flowed, and Harry sobbed, feeling used, sullied, helplessness, weak…bare, naked of both, his clothes and his identity.

A growl came from the same strange man in the doorway, and Harry felt something being flung at him. Looking at the items now in his lap, Harry saw that they were his clothes. Blinking in confusing, he looked up at the man.

"Get dressed!" the wizard snapped impatiently.

Without being told twice, Harry immediately put his clothes back on, not wanting to be naked in front of this man any longer than necessary. He pulled on his pants, his shirt and his socks and shoes in quick session, though not as quickly as he'd have liked, his leg muscles understandably too sore to move faster.

But, Harry was a fighter, and just because he was aching and emotionally exhausted and scared out of his mind, did not mean that he was going to let his man get away with what he's done. Just because Harry couldn't fight him off at the beginning of this whole…nightmare…did not mean that he was going to _not_ fight now. He still had a few tricks up his sleeves.

Harry was many things, most of which everyone knew, or thought they knew. He was, of course, The-Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the Wizarding World, Defeater of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and the goody, goody Golden Boy of Gryffindor and the protégé of one, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, the only things that were actually true, was that he was, indeed, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and Defeater of Voldemort. Everything else was who Harry wanted them to believe he was…it was all a false façade Harry played.

Harry has a couple well-kept secrets, ones that he's had and not told anyone about. One of these secrets came into existence when he turned seven. This secret is of his ability to do Wandless and Will Magic and his gift of Speed Reading. These gifts, he found out when he came to Hogwarts, were boosts of power, and they were only to get stronger as he aged. Every year, until he reached the age of magic maturity at age fifteen, his Wandless and Will Magic would become a bit stronger, and his Speed Reading time (the time it would take to read through something) would increase.

With a discreet wave of his hand, Harry waved a pain-numbing spell on his person, so that it would allow him to make it to Hogwarts without irritating the pain much further. Harry gave an inward sigh of relief, before waving his hand at his attacker, sending a silent curse.

The wizard, who had been advancing upon him as he dressed, was thrown back by the blast of energy, into the wall behind him. As he flew through the air, he had risen his wand, pointing it at Harry, who was too busy summoning his own (useless, really) wand that lay nearly hidden in the corner of the room.

"Obliviate!"

Several things happened in just a second in time. Harry's wand flew into his outstretched hand; the man hit the wall with a sickening crunch, his head having first it the wall, causing his neck to do a near full 360, snapping it clean, before the fresh corpse came crashing limp, onto the floor of the shack; the mist like spell smacked into Harry's head, wiping his memory of the last few hours from his mind instantly.

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Harry stared around at the room, blinking in confusion. The shack was quiet; the only sound was coming from outside of the place, where late-night shoppers were busy running around. Harry had no idea what time it was, what he was doing here, or where he was, only that he was at Hogsmeade, having remembered coming to the village sometime that afternoon.

His eyes widened at the sight of the body before him on the floor. Panicked and confused, Harry raced out of the room, down the rickety and creaking stairs, through the small, sad excuse of a kitchen, and was halfway through the sitting space, when he passed by a mirror. What he saw only made his confusion and fright build.

His reflection – his true reflection that is – stared back at him. No longer was his usual unruly head of hair, his 5 foot 10 frame of lean but still there, manly muscles, his spectacles, or anything else that looked masculine in any way, still visible.

He now had mid-back length hair that was not flat, but nor was it a wild mess – rather it was layered and feathered out, and it laid on his head to shape his much more feminine, Fae-like face. It was still jet-black, but it shone and was as smooth and soft as silk. His eyes, still the large and brilliant emerald green, were no longer hidden by glasses, as he had magically corrected his eye-sight in his second year, and only wore glasses so that he had the upper-hand of his foes. His physique, while still toned, was now femininely so – a tight stomach, a small curvy waist, and a pair of breasts that were average sized, but no less impressive. His hips had a full curve to them that shaped into his arse and thighs, and long slender legs. He was much shorter than his masculine form, standing at 5 foot 5, rather than 5 foot 10, and he weighed no more than 115lbs. He was very petite in form, and he was very beautiful.

He may look completely female, but it could change with a single wish…

See, he was what one would call a Magical Hermaphrodite. A common Hermaphrodite (which isn't very common) is a person who is born with both sexual organs – a penis and a vagina. There is a difference between a common Hermaphrodite and a Magical Hermaphrodite – a common Hermaphrodite being someone who has both at the same time and can't switch.

A Magical Hermaphrodite, or a MH, is different, because they could switch between penis and vagina whenever they wished, but their body stayed the same. Harry can only have either a penis or a vagina, but neither both at the same time. However, his feminine body – his breasts, curves, whatever – would stay the same, except his lower parts, which would become the sex he chooses. He is still considered male, no matter what sex he chooses, because he was born male.

If a MH is born male, they'll have a more feminine body, making him submissive by right, and if a MH is born female, they'll have a more masculine body, making her dominate by right. A Magical Hermaphrodite is kind of like a magical creature species, in the dominant and submissive sense, but neither will ever mate with each other. Submissive MHs are always male and will always mate with a male, and because of this, they can become pregnant, and dominant MHs are always female who mate with other females, and they can fertilize (**_A/N: hopefully that is the right word_**) their partners.

Harry, even though he has access to both a working penis and a vagina, felt more comfortable while being a full female (vagina and all), even though he was still male. It was his nature to.

This was his second deep dark secret. He had come into this…as he sees it, oddity, when he was four. Like is Wandless and Will and Speed Reading ability, it just appeared out of nowhere on his birthday. Being so young, he could fide it from everyone. He had no breasts to worry about being only four, and nobody ever saw him naked except himself, and his hair was always short back then, so no one suspected him of being anything other than a full fledged boy. They had no idea! It became a little easier to hide after his seventh birthday, when he came into his Wandless and Will Magic, because then he could Will his true feminine appearance to be hidden as it became more pronounced, and it would Wandlessly be hidden by his magic.

At Hogwarts, Harry did research on all of his gifts and his odd appearance, and realized that they all had a name, and he became more relaxed about his Wandless, Will and Speed Reading abilities…not enough to tell his friends and do it in public, but still, he did use his gifts every now and then (secretively). These gifts could give him the upper hand one day, he never knew, maybe it could help him against his foes.

However, after reading the books about Magical Hermaphrodites, he became a little more paranoid…Apparently, MHs were extremely rare. Harry was the first MH to be born in over four centuries. They were so rare that they were thought to be myths. The MH was said to be very powerful, more so than Merlin, Dumbledore and Voldemort combined, not to mention the males were very beautiful beings, and the legend behind the MHs say that they were created by Aphrodite herself, and were bestowed beauty and power.

Their ability of fertilization was something that made male MHs so special to the Wizarding World. Wizards were born bisexual, meaning they will bed with either a female or male, but they are the only males able to carry a child within them and give birth. Children were very precious to the Wizarding World, them being the next generation and all, and without magical children, magic would extinguish quickly. It was very important to wizards that they be able to procreate. Because of this and the fact that normal men could not become pregnant, that they bed and marry woman, so that they could have heirs and many other children. While male MHs weren't that important to witches, wizards worshiped them.

It was this that pressured Harry into hiding his MH features from everyone, even his friends and the Headmaster himself. He wanted nobody to know, at least not until he was ready for the chaos that was to ensure his outing of his MH.

Staring at his reflection, Harry was afraid that someone had seen his true appearance. He didn't know what had happened to the wizard up stairs, and he didn't want to know, but he prayed that his secret was still safe.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Harry replaced his concealment and glamour charms, and sighed with relief once his façade, his mask, was back in place, before hurrying out of this strange and unfriendly place.


	2. Chapter 2: Answer to Illness

CHAPTER 2

Harry groaned loudly into the white porcelain bowl as he once again threw up his dinner from the night before. It tasted a lot more pleasant going down last night than it did coming up this morning, he'll tell you that.

His eyes were moist, from the act of puking and from the feeling of unwell. He couldn't believe that this was the way he was spending his Christmas holidays – puking his guts out in dorm's boys' bathroom. This was the seventh time in the past five days since he's seen his meals come back up, haunting, taunting.

Not only was he puking, but he's also had several dizzy spells, a couple of migraines, cramps and he's been physically exhausted. His face was ghostly pale, though he hardly cared about that, only that nobody saw it so pale. He loved glamour charms, he really did. He felt as if he should be getting thinner from closing so much nutrients and protein, but he couldn't feel the difference in his weight. Under his eyes, were large purple bags from exhaustion that he also covered up, so nobody noticed them either.

Honestly, he looked like the walking dead, and he felt no better.

Cleaning up his mess and himself, taking a nice relaxing and calming bath, Harry dressed, and after gathering up his bag, he left the Gryffindor tower, which was deserted once more by everyone except for him and a few younger year students who also stayed for the holidays, and made his way toward the library, hungry for the answers to his problems.

Normally, he would have gone to Madam Pomfrey, but he was still mad with her for refusing to give him any more Pain Relieving potion for that throat of his three weeks ago. She said that too much of that potion could get someone addicted, and he had been taking it that whole week for his cold. It really had been an awful cold, and to make him suffer like that with a major sore throat…it had been uncalled for, in his opinion.

So, pissed off at the school healer, Harry marched to the library. Entering it, he made his way over to the Medical Study section...

Three hours later, Harry left the library, now visibly paler than before. All color in his face had vanished, and at his immediate return to his dorm room, he curled up on his bed, hangings closed and locked around him, hiding him from the outside world, and he cried. He sobbed until his throat was raw and until he had no more tears, and until he had fallen to sleep.

Pregnant...he, Harry James Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, was pregnant. And worst of all, he had no idea as to how he came to be so. He'd have known that he had had sex before…right?

He was so confused, and he was so scared that all he could do at the moment was cry, sleep and worry. He had no idea what to do, except hide the pregnancy. He didn't want to kill the baby, even if he was just sixteen, way too young to be a parent, so an abortion was not even an option. He would carry it, and while he carried it, he would decide what to do – keep it, or give it up for adoption. Which would be the best choice, and which would be the easiest?


	3. Chapter 3: Dursleys and Shopping Sprees

**CHAPTER 3:**

Vernon Dursley was not a bad man. He was fat, ugly, greedy and cowardly, but he was not bad. To himself, his wife and his son, he was a worthy man, who deserved his worth in the world. He cared about his job, the world's view of him and his family, and of course, he cared about his family, even if said family involved that horrid nephew of his.

Don't get him wrong, he hated his nephew, but he was still family, so he would never outright harm him. Starve him, yes, lock him up in his room and said room being a small, cramped cupboard, yes, and depriving the boy of love, gifts and other wonderful things, yes, but he never physically hurt him, except for a few slaps here and there, especially around the holidays. The boy was a menace, and deserved nothing!

He and his wife gave that boy clothing, and food and a safe shelter, so he had nothing to complain about. Vernon felt he and his lovely wife did no wrong by him, and that would never change. Again, they gave him a home, and that was all that was required of them. To keep him alive and healthy, and they did that.

That was a lot more that what they could say for that school of his!

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Harry waited with bated breath, as he stared at his uncle, whose face was rapidly changing colors, and he had to admit that he was a little impressed. At first, his face was a mild pink, but then it went from red, to cherry red, to a mix between a red and a purple…very impressive. If the situation weren't as serious as it was, Harry would have laughed.

"You – you – you unnatural…you little freak of…" sputtered Vernon, his fists shaking, with either rage or fear, Harry didn't quite know for sure, though his money would have gone for rage. "How dare you step…into my house…looking so – so…OUT!" he finally roared, shooting out of his chair, turning it in the process.

The chair clattered to the floor, and Harry watched it fall. He was dreading even coming here, coming back here to his hellish place. Where else could he have gone to, though? He was nearly eight months pregnant...Nowhere in the Wizarding World, that was for sure, because with his concealment and glamour charms down, they would recognize him for what and who he was, and he couldn't be able to fight with being so heavily with child. The Muggle world was a safer option, as Muggles saw nothing masculine about himself, and thought him to be a true female, just pregnant.

Harry had to take his charms off the minute he left the train station, because he had hit eight months in his pregnancy a week ago, and it wasn't safe to be under any kind of enchantments for the last month of pregnancy. He was thankful that it was the summer holidays.

His uncle had freaked when he arrived at their door of Number Four, after taking a bus. It wasn't only his uncle, though. His aunt, Petunia, had nearly had a heart attack after he told him who he was, and had ran out of the house with Dudley, car keys in hand, and had left in their family car. Leaving him and Vernon.

If his uncle threw him out for real, Harry would have to find some place to stay, and that would be a problem, because he had no money on him except for a couple thousand which he was planning on using for baby shopping and medical help, and he couldn't go back to Gringotts to withdraw any more without him redoing the glamour and concealment, which wasn't an option. So basically, he'd be fucked.

Taking a deep calming breath, Harry looked up at his standing uncle.

"Uncle Vernon, please don't kick me out?" he begged, tears forming in his eyes at the idea of living on the streets of the rest of the summer. "Can't we come to an agreement? If you let me stay, I'll…um…I'll give you and Aunt Petunia 500 pounds at the end of the summer."

Vernon paused in his rage, and looked at his nephew with narrowed and greedy eyes.

"Aye, 500 pounds, you say?"

Harry nodded quickly, "Yes. I can have it by the time I leave in September. All I ask is that you give me a place to stay for the rest of this summer, and afterwards you will never see me again, I swear. I'll need medical help, but I can get the money for that, and all I need for the baby. I won't ask you for a cent. Just food for me, and a bedroom to sleep in…I can even try to get maybe 700 pounds," bribed Harry, "if you let me be chore free this summer. I don't want to stress myself too much, pregnant and all."

Vernon's eyes widened at the mention of 700 pounds, and he immediately saw the bargaining there and agreed.

"Fine, 700 pounds it is, but not a penny less, boy – er, freak, or I'll make you pay!" he threatened. "Now, you may continue to use Dudley's second bedroom. You'll get your food as well, but nothing more. We are not responsible for you any longer. Anything else, you'll get yourself, that includes clothing and anything for that abomination of yours – got it?"

Harry nodded his head, relieved that it was settled. "Yes, thank you so much."

"And make damn sure that nobody in his neighborhood finds out that you're, well, that you're anything but a girl! I want no unwanted attention, you hear? No one better know who – what – you are!" Vernon yelled after Harry, as the teen made his way upstairs to his room, trunk behind him.

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Petunia and Dudley were not happy about Harry's staying here, but they said nothing further when told about the payment due at the end of August. Greedy arses, the lot of them, though Harry hardly complained. After inheriting Sirius' seven family vaults and already the heir of the Potter's ten family vaults, not to mention his trust fund, Harry was quite wealthy, and a measly 700 pounds was nothing.

Harry looked around the small, cramped bedroom and frowned in disgust. There was hardly any room for him, Hedwig, his school trunk, the bed (more like a flimsy cot), small wardrobe and a small working desk, let alone himself and an infant. For the past two weeks, Harry had been at the Dursleys, and for those two weeks, he'd been sitting around, making out a list of things that he'll need for the baby.

He had decided just a few weeks after discovering said baby that he wanted to keep it. He didn't care how the baby came into existence, or that he'd only be seventeen when he had it, only that it was his child and that he loved it more than anything on earth already, even if it hasn't been born yet. It wasn't that he didn't _care_ that he was just seventeen. He did, it scared him tremendously, and he was aware that it was going to be a tough and difficult road for him, but there was no way he could give his child up.

The list was quite long, from clothes to diapers (disposable, not cloth), accessories like bottles, pacifier, bathing supplies, a crib, basinet, blankets, pram, and those odd bits here and there. He added a few stuffed animals to the list, but nothing extreme in toys as of yet, given that for the first couple of months, the baby wouldn't be playing too much as it would be sleeping, crying or eating. He wanted everything important before the baby came, to be prepared.

What he was really worried about was not having any room for anything once he got it all. There was no space, and frankly, Harry didn't want to ask his uncle or aunt for a place to store it all. He didn't even think that a crib would be able to fit.

"I don't see how I'll be able to stay here," he said to himself, biting his lower lip. "As soon as I have the baby, we're going to have to leave."

Gathering up the finished list and his money, Harry exited Number Four, dressed in a pair of khaki colored Capri pants that were fitting and comfortable, and styled nicely for maternal wear, and a plain white tank top that defined his engorged breasts and belly, enhancing his pregnancy curves. He looked quite nice. They weren't originally maternity clothes, but Harry Wandlessly fixed their style to fit more comfortably, but as soon as he takes them off, they'll be normal sized and styled.

Apparating rather illegally, Harry appeared in a back alley in London, before making his way onto the busy walk. The traffic was thick and people were heading this way and that, on foot and by vehicle. Harry weaved his way through the throng of people, noticing the way many people were careful about not getting in the way of him, respectfully and careful of the pregnant girl. Harry found it quite amusing, and a bit glad that nobody wanted to bump into him or try and trample him.

Seeing a rather large shop called 'Mummy's Bundle', Harry entered it.

"Hello," came a voice to his right. Looking over, he saw a middle-aged woman, tall with light brown hair with graying streaks on the sides and at the roots, standing behind the clerk's desk, wearing a welcoming and warm smile on her face. "Is there something specific you're looking for, Miss?"

Harry, used to being referred to a girl, smiled back kindly, and pulled out his long list and handed it to her.

"Sorry, but I haven't had a chance to do much shopping," he said to her, blushing slightly.

The woman, whose nametag tagged her as Sally, looked quite understanding and continued to smile, looking over the list. Coming to the end of it, she nodded her head in satisfaction.

"Not to worry, dear," she said, grabbing a cart from the line at the door. "We have all that you need here. Just let me go get my co-worker, Janice, so that she can take my spot at the front desk, then I'll come help you with your shopping. Just one moment."

Harry watched Sally disappear into a door behind the front desk that read 'Employees Only', and waited a minute or two, before she reappeared, with a younger looking girl with curly blond hair. Sally quickly came back over to him.

"Right then, let's start with the top of the list," she said, leading him over to the largest section of the store, the baby outfits. "Do you know if you're having a boy or a girl?"

Harry shook his head, but didn't mention that he'd never actually been to a physician since he found out he was pregnant.

Sally frowned slightly, then shrugged, "That makes buying clothes a bit difficult, then, but not impossible. As the owner of this store, I will let the rules of no return policy slide. What we'll do, dear, is pick out a number of clothes fit for both sexes, as well as some neutrals. When you have your baby, you may either return the clothes you don't need with full cash return, or you may keep them and do as you please. Does that sound like a good deal?" she asked kindly.

"Wow, that's really kind of you," said Harry, astonished by the woman's kindness. She didn't even know him and she was treating him with warmth. "Thank you, that's a wonderful deal."

Sally patted his arm, "Don't mention it dear."

For the next couple of hours, Harry and Sally went through the boys, the girls and the neutral section of clothing, and Harry got several outfits of each. After looking at the clothes, Sally took him to pick out the furniture. He ended up getting this wonderful set-up that consisted of a playpen, a basinet and a changing table all in one. The playpen was at the bottom, which could be used for 6-month old infants and toddlers. Attached above it, is the basinet, and at the foot of the basinet is the changing table. To access the playpen, all one had to do was remove the basinet and changing table. It was ingenious, really, and it took up less space.

Harry also got a pram, a traveling carrier (a car seat) and a Bjorn, which connected around his middle to face either his front or his back, for when his arms get tired of manually carrying the babe, he could strap it on and place the baby in that. Along with those, he also got all of the necessities, the small tidbits that were rather important.

He even got himself some stuff to make it easier for himself. He got several nursing bras, a boppy pillow, lotions, oils and other bathing supplies that are calming and soothing. Sally assured him that they worked with her after she had her three children.

He picked out a stuffed, small black puppy dog that kind of reminded him of Sirius, only in puppy form. It was only the size of his palm, so it was perfect size for a baby. Then he got a larger stuffed toy, which was a white snow tiger, with black stripes and emerald eyes. This toy was average sized for a stuffed kid's toy – not average for a toy at like, a carnival or fair.

Leaving the store four hours after entering it, Harry returned to the Dursleys with many large bags. The bigger stuff was to be delivered to the Dursleys home the next day.

"Where did you get the money for all of that, freak?" Dudley asked upon hearing his cousin's return and seeing all of his purchases.

"I have friends," Harry lied quickly, before heading back up to his room, not desiring to be in the same room with Dudley any longer than necessary.

Up in his room, Harry took everything out and put them neatly in his trunk. Tearing off the tags on the neutral clothes, but keeping the other tags on the other piles of clothes, he put them in his trunk. Finished, Harry unwrapped the packaging and casings on the other stuff, throwing away the garbage.

Finally, he finished. He was much more prepared for the baby. Tomorrow, he was to go the clinic he made an appointment with at 9:30a.m. Hopefully, everything was how it was supposed to be.


	4. Chapter 4: CheckUp

**CHAPTER 4:**

"Hattie Potter!"

Harry looked up as his alias name was called. A Muggle nurse, wearing a pair of white pants and a green and pink floral nurses shirt, and holding a clipboard, was standing at the doorway of the waiting room, looking around patiently. She was brunet, with her hair tied back messily, and looked about thirty-five or so.

Nervously, Harry stood and made his way over toward her, eager to leave the waiting room filled with pregnant woman and sick people.

The nurse flashed him a bright smile as she guided him down the hall, passed the nurses station in the middle of the corridor, and into a small white-walled patient room.

"Good morning, Hattie," she said. "I'm Nurse Rachel...Why don't you have a seat on the examining table, and we'll get started with the check-up."

Obeying, Harry climbed onto the salmon covered 'table' that had a long strip of white protective paper down it, making that rather nauseating crinkling sound that associated with disturbed paper. Settling down, Harry placed his hands in his lap, noticing that they were ice cold from nerves.

Nurse Rachel went about taking his temperature, blood pressure and breathing, and asked questions; the usual check-up one went through at a Muggle doctor's office.

"Alright," the nurse said, marking down notes on the clipboard. "I'll be right back with your doctor."

It took twenty minutes before he saw anyone again. When the door to his room opened, a man walked in. He was wearing a pair of pale green scrubs. His hair, a dirty blonde, was cut really fine on his head, and he wore a pair of spectacles. He too carried a clipboard.

"Miss…Hattie Potter?" the doctor asked upon entering, reading from the clipboard.

Harry nodded hastily, wanting to be out of there as quickly as possible.

"Right then. I'm Dr. Lowry, and I'll be your doctor from now until said otherwise. Now, it says here that you have only seen a doctor a few times during your pregnancy, and not in this country. Correct?"

"Yes," Harry lied.

"Okay, that'll mean that we'll need a blood sample, a urine sample, an ultrasound and a full exam," Dr. Lowry explained slowly, going over his notes. "We'll do the ultrasound first, then the samples, and finally the full exam."

For the next hour, Harry was poked and prodded with needles and fingers. If it were any other place besides a doctor's office, he's have felt violated. All in all it wasn't that bad, though he could have done without the needles taking his blood and his doctor's fingers up his – well, you understand - during the exam. The most amazing part of the whole day was the ultrasound.

The ultrasound was very odd, yet it astonished him. He saw his baby, his beautiful baby, who was healthy and perfect. He could have known the sex of it, but he didn't want to ruin the surprise of birth. He personally didn't care what it was.


End file.
